The Little Poppet
by Puolukka
Summary: Their neighbours were suddenly called out to North Europe and asked them to take care of little Peter who couldn't come along. The only problem's Peter loathed Arthur and the feeling was mutual. AU USUK/Sealand


It happened after dinner time, we were cuddling on the sofa and Alfred kept playing with my pullover meanwhile I was trying to ignore the sodding idiot and read my celtic history book with no avail. As my mouth trembled to scold his inappropriate behavior, the front door's bell rang and that twat automatically flew to the doorway and _tore_ it apart, putting on his best dazzling smile which could compete with a bloody lighthouse.

And there they were: our neighbours.

I couldn't really hear the conversation they had with Alfred, because I hadn't had the time to get up and stand by him that the twat bidded goodbye and shut the door (luckily this time more gently, if you could call "gentle" the action of close the door with the stregth of an elephant). He approched me as he chuckled lightly, showing that smug grin that seemed to say "_I know something you don't._" (which was indeed true and it really scared me to no end).

"Well, what is it now?" I said dryly, you can't really tell what's in that potty mind of his. He just kept smiling like an idiot and before I could hit him _hard,_ he chirped "We're gonna have lots of fun for a few days!" ...

It wasn't really what I had expected. Though what actually striked me where the next words "Peter's gonna stay with us for a while 'cause his folks gotta fly back to Europe for whatever they need to do there!" They were like bombs: they sinked me _deep_ in that ocean called _despair_.

Peter, that reckless youngster. I've always liked kids, they're sweet and could make you genuinely smile oh so easily. Kids were the pure innocence of love. Peter, otherwise, was the pure innocence of catastrophe. He's a badmouthed, spoiled, uncivilized and ungentlemanly brat. Just to mention a few. We started off in the wrong way and so has been since we moved in this little flat in the centre of New York two years ago.

The wrost part, though, was that he got perfectly along with Alfred, (he's a big baby really) well enough as to be called his "_best buddy_".

They meet each other every day and play those foolish videogames for hours, he only left when his parents came back home. During those playtimes I was _always_ their prank target, so it's just obivious I couldn't stand him (usually Alfred would try to beg forgiveness and let him sleep in our bed instead of the rough sofa).

In other words this was going to be a hell of a week for me.

Sometimes I wondered how Tino and Berwald -Peter's parents- could manage to put up with that little living evil. Tino was a really sweet guy, I might not say the same of Berwald, he's pretty scary but seems to be a good person nonetheless. They're both from North Europe -Finland and Sweden, respectively- and moved to USA for business purposes four years ago along with Peter, the only child they took with them (Tino told me his partner had always had a soft spot for kids, just like me) after he lost his real parents (from what I knew Peter's half-English).

As neighbours they had never given us problems, indeed they greeted us friendly good when we just moved in and it was when I thought that my life was at the highest that he showed up, like a tornado he irrupted my heaven of peace and disheveled everything. Well how could you ever blame me if someone you had just met made fun of your eyebrows and called you jerk, moreover he litterally destroyed our "_welcome party_". Poor Tino who had to apologised over and over for that brat's behavior, I really felt sorry for him.

Well it's time to get on the defensive.

Alfred, whilist I was internally _crying_ due to the news, kept blabbing about which games he'd have played with Peter for the next few days, planning each thing they were going to do, though I didn't know if "make a space shuttle with legos and take off towards the moon so we can totally play safe football matchs or jump for miles and miles so which one gets further win!" was quite reasonable, but since it was him...

"And then we're gonna come back home before his folks come to pick him up! So what do you think, Artie?" he joyfully chirped.

"I think I won't ever be accostumed to your ridiculous idiocy."

"You're so mean, really! I was just sharing with you my awesome ideas!"

"I beg to differ. You're just rambling nonsense and above all you invited that little brat in our flat without ask for my opinion!"

"But, Artie! Peter's our friend, so are Tino and Berwald! It's just normsl help those who need it!"

"Now I need a good cup of tea and time to recollect my thoughts and remember why I chose you as my life companion so _then_ I will choke you with all my mighty and enjoy it."

"You're mean."

* * *

"Thank you very much really. That's so kind you're willing to look after Peter. If you need anything just call us anytime, oh and feel free to visit our flat, we gave a spare key to Peter in case he needs to fetch something. Hanatamago won't come either, but she's a nice dog and won't cause trouble. Well now we must go, thank you again! We'll make sure to repay your kindness when we come back!" Tino said as he gave a peck to Peter and gently nodded at us, his partner Berwald followed suit and whisperd a "_Be a good boy._" to the little brat who happily bidded goodbye to them along with Alfred.

As they left Peter took the git's hand and _dragged_ him towards the living room demanding a good _Marvel vs Capcom_ match, which the balsted American gladly accepeted.

I took a deep breath, _now it was_: they were gone and the brat was going to stay here for five days in a row, just _jolly good_.

As the hours passed by, it got boring and boring; the time seemed to _slow down_ and the three of us were living in slow motion, though it was pretty quiet and I was so very much enjoying myself and my free time as I didn't get much of it to spend in my armchair's studio -which was way too soft, and many times I fell asleep on it whilist working- alone with a good cup of (yellow) tea and a _Jules Verne_'s book.

_ Oh wonderful quiet._

I was drowing in my own world as I heard irritanting noises came form below, those two insufferable fools were shouting quite harshly for God knows what and the walls reverberated as the harsh sound reached my studio, hence _me_.

I got up and descended the small stairs that separated those so called (by themselves) grown-ups and me as my footsteps furiously bumped on the wood to let them know my mighty precence to the soon to be dead corpse. As I hit the last step, the noises suddenly ceased.

_ I can feel the fear in the air_, I proudly told myself -hell I could still scare the hell out of arseholes- and when I approched the little preys, Alfred's looking sheepishly at me, whilist Peter was strugguling to free himself from the twat's grip, needless to say in vain.

"May I know what are you _two_ doing?" I said gravely.

"I- Release me, you brute! I just want to play with _those_!" He creid as he pointed to some colourful book's covers scattered among videogames and VHSs -I preferred those to CDs and DVDs, so does Alfred although he said they were no longer produced anymore- that I recognised immediately what he was talking about, and I paled.

_ I'm going to kill Alfred sooner or later,_ I rushed at lightspeed and took the abominations far away from naïve hands.

"No- wait! You can't!" shouted Peter along a "Go for it, Art!" from Alfred, I swore I was going to kill him after this.

When I returned in the living room I saw the brat still shouting as that idiot of an American tried to soothe him saying he was too young for those things and giving him a apologizing look. I litterally stomped in front of that pathetic (but kind of cute too) scene as they both glanced at me with sorrowful eyes (for different reasons though) and I was oh so going to agrily shout at them, if it hadn't been for all the rage to fade away instantly: Alfred had always known my soft spot for kids and more importantly for cuteness, which it was the puppy eyes they were currently _throwing_ at me.

_ Jesus Christ_.

"I swear, Alfred. This time you won, but next you're going to beg for forgiveness all day long. You should have thought to hide them before welcoming in our ungrateful guest." I spat, looking at Peter with dislike.

"Ye-yeah I know, I'm sorry I totally forgot to hide those... I'm gonna check the other rooms to make sure there's nothing... _out of place._" he said apologetically whilist the yob cried a "_I'm not little!_" then he glanced briefly at me and childilishly stuck out his tongue as he run away following Alfred, begging to let him see _those things_ we were talking about, and I'd have gladly took Peter away if the twat hadn't said "Peter, those things are bad, they might eat you up!" with the scariest face he owns, leaving a frightened Peter behind.

The day went pretty well afterwards, the fools played some more and I triumphiantly finished the book with a satisfed sigh. Every now and then I went to check them to be sure they weren't arguing over childish things and behaving well, luckily it went all smooth as the sun was setting I knew this was just the first of many days I would have to look after _two_ kids -instead of a _big one_- and the thought alone made me shiver. I had to make something to keep both of them at bay, specially the brat.

* * *

**A/N:** Frist off I'd like to thank Bels for her helpful advices, also she checked out this story since my native tongue's not English and it's likely I made grammar/syntax errors, so please pardon me (it'd be lovely if you point out mistakes, so I can correct them, if you find any). This story is more centred on the relationship between England and Sealand, but yeah I'm planning to make lot of America/England fluff (maybe also Sweden/Finland, 'cause is a really cute couple).

However I hope you like it and deal with my poor grammar skills.


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